


Art Show

by obsessivepropulsive



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Reylo Prompt, ben is a middle school art teacher, it is a mature warning because of the numerous vagina references, rey is a foster parent, the smut is all hinted at, there are really so many, there really is no smut, they are both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 17:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivepropulsive/pseuds/obsessivepropulsive
Summary: “Okay, but maybe they painted tiny piles of lunch meat? You know, like the thin deli kind you get sliced fresh?”Rey leaned in and tried to look thoughtful as she peered at the artwork. Twenty five images, the best watercolors that Corellia Middle School had to offer, every single one looking exactly like…





	Art Show

**Author's Note:**

> based on the absolutely genius reylo prompt you can find [here](https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/status/1165637144251179009).
> 
> i hope i did it some justice. at the very least, you now have like twenty new reference terms for ladies' downstairs mix-ups, mostly thanks to [CardiganVixen](https://twitter.com/CardiganVixen), [monsterleadme](https://twitter.com/monsterleadme), [RStormlight](https://twitter.com/RStormlight) and [reylolujahh](https://twitter.com/reylolujahh).

“Okay, but maybe they painted tiny piles of lunch meat? You know, like the thin deli kind you get sliced fresh?” 

Rey leaned in and tried to look thoughtful as she peered at the artwork. Twenty five images, the best watercolors that Corellia Middle School had to offer, every single one looking exactly like…

“The Eye of Sauron, maybe?" Rose continued from beside her. "I know they read _ The Two Towers _last month in class with Mr. Hux."

Rose blushed, slightly, as the name left her lips. Rey rolled her eyes, shooting a glance at the English teacher in question, safely down the hallway, before hissing, "Why don't you just make a move already?"

Rose shrugged, her blush deepening to match the red visitor's badge on her shirt. 

"Listen, he's Paige's teacher this year, and...I don't want to do anything to embarrass her. You know, this foster mom thing is...well...new. And tricky."

Rey nodded in solemn agreement. She and Rose had been inseparable since they met each other through the agency support group last year. It was odd, having someone to rely on, to confide in. Rey had been alone most of her life, which was what inspired her to foster in the first place.

And now, suddenly, she had a son _ and _a best friend.

"And we're at a good place now. It took a few months to get there, to earn Paige's trust, and that is more important to me than my-"

"Vagina? Are those a bunch of vaginas up there?" 

A familiar handsome face was suddenly pushing forward, squinting curiously beside them, his voice echoing just too-loudly down the hallway.

Rey’s response was a hiss. “Dammit, Finn, we are parent guests at a school function. At least try to act decent.” 

She glanced pointedly at the floppy-haired gym teacher down the hallway and added “It’s not a vagina, anyways. They are called _ labia _, sir. Not like you would know a labia if it bit you on the nose-”

“Never has, never will,” he cut her off with a flip of his hand. “Besides, _ I _ am not a parent. I am just here to support my man in all of his educational duties regarding the development of America’s youth. You are here, apparently, to look at science experiments and math projects and art galleries that resemble female genitalia.” 

Rose snorted. Rey rolled her eyes. 

"Anyways," Finn continued, "I'm going to go help Poe get ready for his meeting with the soccer team parents."

Rose followed right behind him, muttering under her breath about "another fucking PTA meeting."

Which left Rey. Alone. Surrounded by what she was absolutely sure was artwork commissioned specifically for a gynecologists office. 

She was just pondering how much longer she could put off actually visiting Luke's teachers, and having to uncomfortably explain that "Yes, foster moms can be this young," and "No, he doesn't have any medical conditions, I like to think of him as delightfully weird," when she saw him.

_ Him _.

Rey was no art expert, but she knew enough to understand that this man belonged up on a gallery wall.

His face full of features just a little too big, he _ should _have looked like an awkward cubist work, a portrait by Picasso that just didn't quite line up, the pieces not clicking together.

But instead, Rey saw a Renaissance painting. He was a tempera by Botticelli, a seven foot tall depiction of the Greek god of sex _ and _ destruction. But instead of a tunic covering what Rey just _ knew _ were his rippling pecs, he had a white dress shirt on, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. White sneakers capped off his black jeans.

_ Definitely a dad _ . Rey glanced at his ringless fingers. _ And definitely single _.

Rey expected him to walk past - surely he had teachers to meet with, or mortals to smite. Instead, he stopped beside her, arms crossed as he stared at the wall ahead. 

She glanced discreetly over at him, brows furrowed and his teeth working the inside of his bottom lip.

Rey generally didn't mind silence, but the thought of never hearing this man's voice was killing her. She had to say something.

"Crazy, huh?" 

_ That's what you're going with, Johnson? _

"Excuse me?"

It was deep and smooth, exactly how she imagined it would be, except tinged with an unexpected hesitance that was utterly charming.

Rey smiled slyly. "This gallery. The fact that these are hanging up in a middle school." And then, dropping her voice to a whisper, "The art teacher must be a complete _ idiot." _

A look of panic flashed across his face, and for a brief second Rey knew, she just knew she had gone too far with this man, a complete and total stranger, but then he smiled nervously and cleared his throat.

"What, uh, makes you say that?” He shifted on his feet and looked at her expectantly. 

“You see it, too, right?” Rey gestured dramatically at the middle row. “It’s like Georgia O'Keeffe on crack in here!”

“O'Keeffe painted flowers.”

“Flowers that _ obviously _ symbolized female genitalia. _ Everyone _ knows that. The woman was painting giant chunchas everywhere.” Rey added in a double thumbs-up for extra effect.

“Yes. Right. Of course. So, uh...these paintings are like that? You think they, ummm...look like...like female...parts?” He ran a large hand nervously through his hair. 

“Oh absolutely. Labia as far as the eye can see - it’s great! I’m Rey, by the way.” She stuck her hand out, waiting to shake his, begging for the chance to touch him.

His hands were still, over his mouth, eyes frozen wide on the works before him. She barely heard him mumble “I’m Ben,” followed by something that sounded oddly like “candlelight.” When he finally turned to her, his face was blank. 

“I’m sorry, Rey. I forgot I have a meeting to be at.” His smile was apologetic but his eyes blazing with panic. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Rey watched him as he walked off, both hands embedded in his hair. It wasn’t surprising, to see him go. Most men, no matter how enamored they initially were with her brashness, eventually were scared off by it. 

They just usually waited until the second or third date to bow out.

Rey sighed. Something seemed different about Ben - she had seen a flicker of hope across his broad chest. She felt the creep of self pity begin to gnaw at her, and shook her head.

_ I have Rose. _

_ I have Luke. _

_ I'm not alone anymore. _

Rey took a deep breath and headed down the opposite hallway. 

\--------------------------------

Rey had seen the science experiments. She checked out the maps on the social studies hall, nodding thoughtfully with the other parents at the scribbled color pencil marks and one questionably labeled the “Persiphic Ocean.”

Luke had already let her know he was leaving, offering to walk Paige home after they grabbed something to eat nearby. “It would be convenient,” he explained, since Rose was still stuck in the PTA meeting and Rey still needed to meet half his teachers. “Paige’s mom can just bring you home.”

Rey agreed, and watched suspiciously as the two barely-teenagers turned the corner together, hands bumping awkwardly as they grinned at one another.

_ Convenient. _

Three increasingly awkward conversations later, Rey was more than ready to head out. She meandered down the main hallway, absolutely _ not _ looking for a tall, thick head of dark hair among the crowd.

She was looking for Rose. She needed to go home.

Instead, she found Finn and Poe.

“Okay, but the sign beside the gallery says _ A Study of Light and Dark.” _

“If I added_ ‘and Vulvas’ _to the sign do you think Solo would notice?” Poe was nearly giggling at the prospect.

Rey chimed in, grinning, with nothing better to do while she waited for a ride. "Who's Solo? Is Mrs. Solo the art teacher?" 

“No. _ Mr _. Solo, the art teacher. The giant idiot standing over there talking to Principal Organa.” Poe gestured dismissively at the end of the hallway.

He looked enormous even from a distance, leaned down in intense conversation with the tiny woman. 

“Very funny, Poe. That’s just Ben. I met him earlier.”

“Yep. Ben. Ben Solo, the art teacher.”

Rey felt her mouth go dry.

“Maybe you don’t understand, _ Poe _ . Ben and I spoke earlier. About the art. _ Alllllll about the art. _ I don’t think he could possibly be-”

Poe’s face twisted into something that ran the thinnest of lines between shock and amusement. And somehow, all at once, his laughter was echoing down the hallway, and Ben was looking right at Rey, and she knew she was staring. Her mouth was open in horror, probably wide enough to fit her entire shoe into, which she would honestly like to have done at that time, because _ choking would be preferable to this sudden awkward hell. _

But before she could do anything, he was turning and walking down the empty hallway, long legs taking even impossibly longer strides.

Rey knew she couldn’t catch up with him by walking, and broke into a run towards the back exit.

“Ben, wait!” He turned, meeting eyes with her for a split second before ducking into the door at the end of the hall.

She skidded to a stop as she ran in after him. The room was big - _ enormous _ \- and filled with color-coordinated tables and stools. Easels and canvases were arranged neatly around the edges, supplies organized fastidiously in bins under carefully hung artwork. 

And there was Ben, head down on what she assumed was his desk, a striking oil painting of a black-masked man with a blazing red laser sword above him. Rey made a mental note to ask about that later.

Assuming there was a later.

He didn’t stir as she approached him, boots echoing heavy on the tiled floors. She was an arm’s length away when she heard a muffled, “I should have told you.” Then, “I’m sorry.”

Her hand shot out to touch his shoulder and he glanced up at her through dark lashes. 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Rey, I've seen you at every school function we have had this year. And every time I try, God I try, to get up the nerve to come and speak to you and tonight I finally did, and….” he sunk his head back into the wooden surface. “You called me an idiot.”

Rey stared at her fingernails. “Well. Technically I didn’t call _ you _ an idiot, because, well, I didn’t know you were in charge of...well...that.” She winced and offered him an apologetic smile. 

“Can you imagine? All night I had no idea why they were all laughing, what they were talking about and then-”

“Really, Ben? You had no idea? You painstakingly hung each piece of artwork, stepped back, and didn’t see twenty four lady bits staring back at you?” 

“No.” His eyes were downcast, his voice low and resigned.

“No? A whole school of parents noticed and you didn’t?”

A blush rose to his cheeks and he crossed his arms defensively. 

A horrifying thought hit her suddenly. "Oh God, I'm sorry Ben, I didn't mean to pry, I mean if you like guys that's fine-"

"No. No, I like women. I like _ you _, Rey, I've just never really, well. I've never really had anything to umm, well…"

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in defeat "...compare the artwork to." 

_ Oh. _

"Oh."

"Yeah. So I understand if you want to leave and join every other damn parent in this school laughing at my collection of-"

"I could show you." 

She realized she was holding her breath. _ Did she just say that out loud? _

His eyes snapped to hers, and this time his “Excuse me?” was noticeably deeper than earlier that evening, but still laced with the same hint of anxiety. 

“I could show you. It would only be right, you know. After the things I said. I could help you make sure this never happens again.”

_ You’re not even drunk, woman. Where is this coming from? _

“You mean, like on the internet, right?” 

_ Don’t say it, Rey. You are going to scare him away like every other man in your- _

“I mean, you could. Or...I could give you a more personal experience if you think you might need it?”

“Yes.” His voice was more of a plea than an answer. His hands were shaking, his slacks doing nothing to disguise his level of interest in her proposal. 

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"What about tonight?" His words were laced with desperation, not impatience. He looked at her like he might lose her if he let her out of his sight. Rey understood the feeling perfectly. 

“Tonight would be perfect,” she replied, and said a quick silent prayer to whatever deity inspired her to actually shave her legs that morning.

A relieved smile washed over his face as he reached out to touch her hand, his thumb swiping gently over the back. Rey felt a shiver pass over her as she imagined those hands elsewhere.

“Shit - the gallery. I promised my mo...uh, Principal Organa that I would have it down before I left, but…” he smirked and gave her hand a small squeeze, “Mr. Hux owes me. Big time. And I’m about to call in that favor.”

Rey nodded thoughtfully, then taking his hand in hers and leading him to the door added, “I know just the person that can help him - she’ll have the extra time on her hands now that she doesn’t have to drive me home.”

\---------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> basically, i just stole ten minutes of your time for vagina jokes, and if you want to come yell at me here i am - [tumblr](https://obsessivepropulsive.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/obsessivepro).


End file.
